


And That's Intermission

by FakePlastikTrees



Category: Smash (TV)
Genre: 2x12 Spoilers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakePlastikTrees/pseuds/FakePlastikTrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen and Ivy have had more ups and downs than the average couple. This is them making up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And That's Intermission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UbiquitousMixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/gifts).



> Takes place right after 2x12

There was a rush like no other for Ivy, stepping into Marilyn’s shoes in front of the world and having the world believe her earnest admiration and love for the woman. She is glad they caught her sincerity. She couldn’t have hoped for better and she could let that get to her head. She could allow her ego to grow out of its cage like it’s dying to do, but she knows so much better now, and she refuses to let her moment pass now. She knows that in order to make it past Bombshell, she needs to stay grounded and that’s what she’s doing now. Instead of bombarding her liver with pints of alcohol, she’s washed her face clean of make up and wrapped herself in her bathrobe.

Someone else has other plans however.

There is a knock on her door at three in the morning. She freezes in the bathroom doorway, hoping whomever it is will go away if she ignores it. She’s got more than a handful of drinks in her already and while the adrenaline of a standing ovation hasn’t exactly worn out, she’s exhausted and all she wants to do is sleep. All she should do is sleep.

Ten seconds later, there is that knock again. In the same, soft, hopeful tone and Ivy groans her misfortune up at the ceiling before dragging her feet the short distance to the front door. She wonders how long it will be until she can afford a bigger place. Three locks later, she pulls the door open and instantly forgets she was so very tired only moments ago.

Perched on the wall across the hall, Karen leans in this very talented way with this crooked, smug little grin and half hooded eyes. She clicks her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she not very casually scans Ivy from head to toe and then draws out slowly, “So, I was promised a private audience with the star of Bombshell.”

She is still wearing the dress she wore earlier, except, she’s paired it with a leather jacket that suits her all too well. Ivy can’t help the smile on her face, nor the flutter in her stomach or the borderline condescending tone she takes when she replies, “I had given up on you. I didn’t think you would show.”

“Are you uninviting me?” Karen asks, not moving, in that sparkling dress and really, really high heels, quickly catching onto the effect her attire has on Ivy.

“Well, it is very late.”  
It’s been a long time since they flirted.

It’s been a long time since the last time.

Ivy was sure it was over and done with. And Karen was sure she’d lost her chance. But just like that, they’ve both figured it out and now it’s clear. It’s all clear and new again and this time, they hope not to fuck it up.

Karen tilts her head to the side and sighs heavily before shaking her head at Ivy, tired and smiling, barefoot in her robe. Suddenly, Karen feels very lucky. “You look so beautiful.”

Ivy was planning on giving Karen more of a hard time but when she says things like that--in that dreamy voice of hers, it’s hard to do and so rather than tease the brunette any longer, Ivy stretches one arm out and grasps the leather collar of Karen’s jacket to pull her straight into her apartment.

Karen takes her time kissing Ivy tonight, retracing every thing she remembers and the corners of her she‘d almost forgotten. She holds her gingerly against the door, while she rests one hand gently on the curve of the blonde’s waist and exhales slowly through her nose at the first taste of her tongue, which is minty, like toothpaste.

Ivy shivers and moans quietly, her hand falling off the lapels of Karen’s jacket, only to slip inside to pull her closer. She can feel the heat of her skin through the fabric of her dress. “I know it’s really stupid--” She says underneath a sigh as Karen kisses her jaw, “--but I’m really, really glad you didn’t fall into Derek’s trap.”

Karen chuckles softly against Ivy’s skin before raking her teeth along the blonde’s pulse point and enjoying the way the milky white skin rises in a coat of goose bumps.

Ivy hisses. “No marks. Anywhere.”

Kissing her way southward, Karen reaches for the knot holding Ivy’s robe closed and pulls at it until it falls open and she can press her lips to her bare chest. “Yes, yes, we can’t have all of New York City knowing Marilyn’s getting laid.”

“That’s right,” Ivy says, her eyes fluttering shut as a warm , wet tongue swirls slowly around one pert nipple and then a pair of the most missed lips in the city suck gently, driving her crazy all over again. “I forgot how good you are at that.”

As Karen continues to remind her just how good she is with her mouth, Ivy begins to wonder if will get difficult again, if they’ll go back to hating each other. She wonders a lot of things, none of which are important now. So, she makes herself stop thinking and grabs a fistful of dark hair, urging Karen upward until they’re kissing again and where Ivy can freely push Karen’s jacket off her shoulders until it falls with a flop on the floor.

Ivy is pretty much looking forward to one thing and one thing only, so two minutes later, when she pushes a naked Karen onto her bed and soon follows astride her, she’s set on getting it. She kisses her fully until the brunette feels compliant enough underneath her, and Ivy makes an attempt to move onwards, except, Karen stops her halfway down her torso and pulls her back with both hands for a dizzying kiss that leaves Ivy breathless and nearly delirious.

Licking her lips and slowly opening her eyes to meet Karen’s darkened gaze, Ivy huskily says, “Now, that’s not fair.”

“Get up here.”

Ivy stares down for a moment, trying to figure it out, and then Karen nudges both her thighs and she gets it. Ivy is dizzy again, with anticipation alone. She lowers her head, kisses Karen once more, one sloppy, desperate kiss before slowly crawling up the other woman’s body until she’s bracing herself with both hands on the headboard an she can feel Karen’s breath hotly against her most sensitive parts.

“Jesus--” Ivy breathes, her grip tightening over the headboard before Karen tilts her chin upward and takes her first taste of Ivy in months. Ivy whimpers and hopes her thighs will hold her up, since they currently feel rather unreliable.

They could do this forever, Karen thinks. This lazy, teasing rhythm as she rakes her nails over Ivy’s ass and dips her tongue inside her, once, twice and again before finding her clit and feeling the other woman’s entire body react in return.

“Karen…” Ivy moans, whatever comment she was about to make dying in a loud enough gasp while Karen uses a similar technique she likes to use when they kiss.

Ivy’s groaning and her hips are moving in contrast to Karen’s lips and tongue and just the right use of teeth. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to forget all they put each other through. It could mean more. They could stop, dissect it and talk about it and try and figure things out, but Ivy wouldn’t do that to herself. Not when it’s this good. Not when she’s Marilyn-fucking-Monroe and Karen Cartwright is lapping at her like a cat with a bowl of warm milk.

Karen grips Ivy’s hips tightly when they begging to move faster and the sounds she’s making begin to grow louder through her first orgasm, which clashes with a an unexpected second that is received with a whimpering cry of Karen’s name and a breathless plea for the her to stop.

She doesn’t move, Ivy. She freezes where she is, on her knees with her hands on the headboard, her eyes closed as she catches her breath and her mind floats somewhere above her. Until suddenly, Karen is kneeled behind her, pressed against her back as she kisses her shoulder and reaches around to palm both her breasts firmly. Just like that, Ivy is suddenly reawakened and she turns her head, quickly finding Karen’s mouth to shamelessly and greedily taste herself on her former adversary’s tongue. It’s intoxicating.

She lets it go on a few minutes, until Karen’s gently grinding against Ivy’s ass and unknowingly groaning with every swipe of Ivy’s tongue against her own.

Just when she thinks Karen doesn’t see it coming, Ivy rounds on the brunette and pushes her onto her back.

Ivy has always particularly loved taking long, luxurious tours along Karen’s body. She’s soft and smooth and her legs are so long, Ivy wonders if this life was ever even a choice for her. Her breasts are not small, but they’re smaller than Ivy’s and a lot more sensitive. She still bites her lips when Ivy kisses them, and sighs when the blonde sucks on them.

In fact, any chance Ivy has of using her tongue, she’ll nearly abuse, because the way Karen arches her neck and the sounds she makes--well, it’s like strawberry cheesecake.

Karen uses both hands to hold Ivy’s hair away from her face as the blonde slowly slips two fingers inside her, and the brunette’s eyes nearly drift shut at the sensation.

“Ivy…” She moans.

“Does that feel good?”

Karen opens her eyes then and smiles through parted lips as she begins to pant and then spreads her legs a little wider. Ivy smiles back and rather than wait for a response, lowers her head and kisses Karen again.

She holds her weight up on one arm, her hand a tight fist into the comforter as she thumbs Karen’s clit. Karen gasps and grabs at Ivy’s hair by the handful, pulling her down for a bruising kiss, their tongues doing a dance that matches the rhythm of Karen’s hips as they writhe and thrust upward, faster and more desperate when Ivy anchors herself behind her hand and uses her hips.

It’s all over soon after. Ivy latches onto Karen’s neck, sucks long enough to leave a hickey and Karen is suddenly in pieces underneath the talented blonde.

They’re sweaty and tangled and it’s perfect enough to consider it a truce.

“Oh.” Ivy says, rolling over and brushing her hair back in a complete Marilyn way, smiling happily and breathing easily in and out as Karen turns on her side and watches Ivy’s profile as if she’s never seen her.

“Karen?”

“Hmm?”

“Things are going to get complicated, aren’t they?”

Webbing her fingers with Ivy’s, Karen lifts the blonde’s hand and presses her knuckles to her lips. “I’ve done complicated. You, Ivy Lynn, are on a whole other level of complicated. It’s going to be hell, probably. But it can be done.”

Ivy laughs and shakes her head. Groaning, she closes her eyes and thinks about the new truck load of drama this could bring. But Karen kisses her hand again and Ivy quickly decides she doesn’t care because nothing needs to be decided tonight. “Oh, who gives a shit? Whatever I don’t do, they’ll make it up anyway, right?”

“Right,” Karen replies instantly, and then turns her head to met Ivy’s blue stare. She wants to tell her she loves her and that she’s sorry. But it isn’t the time. So she rolls on top of her instead and kisses her, not stopping until they’re both too tired to talk or move and all that’s left to do is sleep and wait for morning. 


End file.
